


MacCready Meets Nora

by shepardly



Series: Nora ‘n MacCready [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, does this count as sickfic?, some description of field surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepardly/pseuds/shepardly
Summary: MacCready meets Nora the Mercenary, who luckily happens to have some medical skills under her belt.





	MacCready Meets Nora

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been humming and hawing over my F!SS for ages because I kind of hate the canon backstory for F!SS’s, (c’mon, it’s an AU with power armour, was it that big of a leap for us to have ladies with the same backstories as the guys geez) so originally I decided my Nora would be a lawyer but she’d be a military lawyer. Then I was like fuck it, actually she was a military doctor. Then I was like double fuck it she was ON THE FRONT LINES AS A FIELD MEDIC. Then I realized she wouldn’t actually have all the doctor skills as a field medic because they are sometimes more like a paramedic and they know what to do for trauma and triage but won’t necessarily perform surgery, so I dialed it back down to military doctor that served on mobile units on the front lines and that’s what stuck.
> 
> TL;DR this story sat on my GDrive since December 2017 because fuck Bethany Esda sexism and my indecision.
> 
> Also WARNING: vaguely graphic description of field surgery within. Mostly described from a drugged up person’s POV.

***

 

MacCready scowled at the gashes on his forearm. A feral ghoul had gotten a lucky swipe in the day before, opening three gouges with its filthy fingernails. Now there were faint red lines trailing away from it, signs of infection swimming through his veins. He wasn't worried about it, not yet, but it was still an inconvenience. He took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle before splashing a liberal amount over the wounds, gritting his teeth at the awful burn, then carefully wrapped his arm before pulling his shirt and duster back on. He left his sleeves rolled down, covering his arms to the wrist, taking advantage of the cool, rainy weather to hide the bandage.

 

He had been hired by a mercenary less than a week prior, for more caps than he'd held in a long time, and he did not need this causing him any down time now.

 

“MacCready!” The merc yelled from down the hill somewhere, audible through the busted out windows of the decrepit house he was holed up in. “You ready to go?”

 

“Yeah, be right there.” MacCready called back as he got to his feet and snuffed the lantern he had been using. It was too heavy to take with them, and there was no point in letting it burn dry when someone in need may come upon it later. When he stepped out onto the porch, the sun was just coming up over the horizon but was still muffled behind heavy grey clouds. With any luck, they'd burn off before they turned into a rad storm. Then again, with his luck he'd be dipping into his dwindling supply of Rad-X when it did turn. He settled his cap more firmly on his head, checked his rifle and the ammo in his pockets once more, and set off for the day.

 

“If we keep up a good pace, I expect we’ll roll into Sanctuary before nightfall.” Nora said as he fell in beside her. They were similarly built, and their strides matched well; a small blessing that MacCready was grateful for as she settled into a mile-eating gait. She had her black leather duster done up and her scarf bundled around her neck. 

 

Her jacket looked like a courser jacket with modifications, one of which had to have been a size adjustment to fit her slight frame, but MacCready was still wary enough of her not to ask if it actually had belonged to a courser. If it was, and she had taken it from the courser herself, then he was in over his head even more so than usual. 

 

He had heard rumour that she was a vaultie, but he had yet to see any evidence of that claim. Granted, she had all her teeth and hair and a smooth complexion like he had never seen before, but she was tough as nails and shrewd to boot. She had a soft spot for people looking to make an honest living in the Commonwealth, building and helping out settlements, but she had yet to do a job for free or at the first price offered. While he approved of everything he had seen so far, his plan was to watch her for a while, see how she played the game of survival in the Commonwealth before he decided if she was someone he actually wouldn't mind backing. For now, the caps were good enough motivation to be her loyal companion. Once the contract was up, however, he would likely be on his way to the next job, same as it always was.

 

MacCready’s heel hit the ground harder than he intended, sending a slight jar through his body that awakened an ache low in his belly. He almost touched his stomach before catching himself with a frown.

 

“You okay?” Nora looked at him curiously, and he only responded with a short nod before quickening his pace. If he really was getting sick from the infection, he'd rather do it at this ‘sanctuary’ she had mentioned than on the road.

 

***

 

True to her word, they were crossing a bridge into a small town that bore the sign ‘Sanctuary Hills’ just as the sun was sinking below the horizon. The sun had come out in the afternoon, warming MacCready enough that he had loosened his scarf and the top buttons of his shirt while they walked. He was still feeling warm despite the cooling air, but Nora was still bundled up, claiming that she was freezing.

 

The settlement had put up a gate just up the street, complete with laser turrets, a spotlight, and two guards who let them in when they recognized Nora. A large German Shepherd came barreling down the street and nearly tackled her with slobbering kisses, yelping excitedly while she laughed and gave him the rubs he obviously lived for. The dog stopped after a moment and very gravely came over to inspect MacCready, who offered a hand to be sniffed. The dog sniffed him carefully before huffing in satisfaction and hurrying back to Nora.

 

“Congratulations, you just passed the Dogmeat test!” A settler called out with a laugh on the way by. MacCready could feel the skin between his eyes crinkle with confusion, which Nora noticed.

 

“This is Dogmeat. He's his own dog, but has decided to join my crew for some reason.” Nora started to explain. “He's got a good judge of character, somehow, and he's become the official judge for who gets to join us.”

 

“Oh.” MacCready looked down at the dog, who looked at him expectantly. “Uh, thanks?”

 

Dogmeat barked happily, and MacCready could have sworn it had understood him even though it was a _dog_.

 

“C’mon, I need water, food, and bed, in that order.” Nora lead the way further into Sanctuary, heading for a well lit pre-war house that had been patched up relatively well. MacCready followed closely, noting the settlers, the tatos and corn growing in tidy but random patches, and was that a _super mutant_ standing by the large generator and powered water pump? His grip reflexively tightened on his rifle as he stumbled to a halt, but Nora called out a casual greeting to the towering beast apparently called Strong without missing a beat.

 

“Human take Strong on next walk?” Strong asked hopefully.

 

“Sorry, big guy, I still need you to hang out here.” Nora said apologetically. “We'll find the milk of human kindness next week.”

 

“Strong bored!” Strong grumped but stomped away amicably enough.

 

“Don't mind him, he's mostly harmless.” Nora spoke out of the corner of her mouth to MacCready as he hurried to catch up again. “Just don't pick any fights with him. He has a collection of skulls that I’d rather not see grow with human ones.”

 

They went into the house, where a few of the settlers were eating their meals. They all greeted Nora with cheerful enthusiasm and got them both seats and plates of food, along with cans of purified water, no one batting an eye at the fact that she had dragged in an armed stranger into their midst. While he puzzled over that, MacCready gratefully took a seat with his back to a wall, where he could watch the entire room while he picked at his food. He knew he should be ravenous after a long day of travel, but bouts of nausea had been plagueing him on and off throughout the day, and had decided now was a good time as well. The settlers were preoccupied with Nora, who was weaving a melodramatic tale of what they had been up to that week, taking questions and comments from her audience as they came. She knew each of them by name, and they were all familiar with her, and the sense of trust and community was something he hadn’t seen in what felt like a lifetime.

 

“Not hungry?” Someone asked nearby, startling him. MacCready looked up from poking at his plate at a Minuteman, who extended a friendly hand, and he automatically shook it. “Name’s Preston Garvey. I take it the General roped you into all this?”

 

“MacCready.” He said, eyes flicking to Nora, who was holding forks between her fingers as she demonstrated the swipe of a Deathclaw to her eager audience. “She never told me she's a general.”

 

“She doesn't toot her own horn much.” Preston agreed, settling onto a stool next to him. “Even with her wild stories.”

 

Dogmeat padded over to sit at MacCready’s feet, looking between his face and his plate with mournful eyes. MacCready could tell that it was the best food he had had in years, but his queasy stomach wouldn't allow him more than a couple bites. He gave up with a sigh and offered the food to Dogmeat, who snapped it up in two large bites before trotting back to lay on Nora’s feet under the table. She was on to the story about the super mutant nest now, her audience enthralled and egging her on with hoots and jeers. MacCready noted that Strong wasn’t any less enthusiastic than anyone else in laughing or jeering at her tale.

 

Preston chuckled, watching Nora with fond eyes. MacCready wondered if there was something between the two of them, the Minuteman and his General, and felt a stab of unreasonable jealousy in his chest. He fought the feeling down and kept his face neutral. MacCready barely knew her, having only met her a week ago; who was he to be jealous?

 

“I think you'll fit in here just fine, MacCready.” Preston said kindly, getting to his feet. “Welcome to Sanctuary.”

 

***

 

MacCready dozed on the chair, arms folded and hat pulled down low on his brow, and nearly fell over when Nora prodded his shoulder. He looked around blearily and realized most of the settlers had cleared out already, candles snuffed and plates piled on the counter.

 

“I’m beat.” She yawned, kindly not commenting on his startled expression. “We’re short on beds again, so you'll be bunking in my room. C’mon.”

 

“Uh…” MacCready started uncomfortably, but she rolled her eyes.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself, hot shot, you get the floor.”

 

He cautiously followed her down the hall and into the room to the right. The nicest bed MacCready had ever seen was tucked into a corner, with a strangely empty spot at the foot of it, as if something had been recently removed. The rest of the room was packed with odds and ends, mostly cleaned and repaired antique appliances and furniture. A desk was cluttered with a heavily modified but disassembled 10mm, a gun cleaning kit sitting handy near it. Posters plastered the wall, with the odd metal sign here and there, and while there was evidently power to the fan and light overhead she left it off in favour of the lantern she carried in. The closet shelves were full of toys and games, but there was no other evidence of a child actually living here. She set the lantern on the table by the nice bed, and it cast a warm glow in the room. One window was boarded up, while a sheet hung over the other, letting a blessedly cool breeze in.

 

Nora pushed some of the stuff to the side to pull down a mattress that was leaning against the wall, and retrieved a sleeping bag and comfy looking pillow out of the closet.

 

“It isn't anything fancy, but beats sleeping on the ground.” Nora said apologetically.

 

“No, it's fine.” MacCready couldn't believe that she was offering him all this after having paid him to tag along, but schooled his expression to keep it off his face. “Thanks.”

 

Exhaustion had taken up residence in his bones, and his body was telling him that lying down right now was a very good idea. His right side, low in his belly, was hurting worse, but he was pretty sure it wasn't anything a good night's sleep couldn't handle. He stripped down to his old white tank top and boxers, knowing Nora was already used to seeing him in his underwear from time to time on their week traveling together, and slid into the sleeping bag. He made sure his rifle was within arm's reach before he closed his eyes, more than ready for the sweet oblivion of sleep, his body feeling like it was sinking into a downy feather mattress. His prodding fingers discovered that it was, indeed, a downy feather mattress.

 

He could get used to this.

 

Dogmeat padded in and jumped up on Nora’s bed, springs creaking as he turned four times before curling up on her feet. 

 

“G’night, MacCready.” Nora turned down the lamp.

 

“Night, boss.” MacCready drowsily replied, and then he was out like a light.

 

***

 

MacCready sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat trickling down his spine. He scrambled the rest of the way out of the sleeping bag he had already mostly kicked aside anyway, and bolted down the hall, through the common area and out the side door onto the dead grass where he messily lost what little food he had eaten in the past day. When he was done, he shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, finally taking note of his surroundings. It was still dark out, and he likely had only slept an hour or so. No one seemed to be around, although he could see the guard by the gate down the street.

 

His lower stomach still ached, much worse than before, shooting pains stabbing through his torso if he straightened too much. He hobbled back into the house to find water to rinse his mouth before returning to the room and gingerly lowering himself onto the mattress, not bothering with the sleeping bag again. His skin felt hot and tight. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so sick. 

 

“You okay?” The sleepy mumble came from the pile of blankets on the bed. Dogmeat hadn't moved from his spot on Nora’s feet and legs, but his head was raised and cocked to the side as he looked at MacCready in the faint moonlight.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” MacCready rasped, closing his eyes again. “Go back to sleep.”

 

He dozed fitfully, the pain in his lower stomach getting worse and worse. He still felt nauseous, but due to losing everything in his stomach already he was fairly confident he wouldn't puke again. The pain spiked suddenly, viciously, and he couldn't help but double over with a small, pained sound.

 

“MacCready?” The mattress creaked before the lantern came to life. “What's wrong?”

 

“N-nothing— I—” MacCready could feel himself trembling in pain, and cursed himself for showing weakness here, _now_. He needed the caps from this job, some to send on to Duncan and some to save for a crew to get into Med-Tek, and if he didn't pull himself together now those caps were as good as gone. He rolled onto his side and curled up as much as he could, trying to relieve the pain. “P-probably just something I ate, I'll be… I’ll be f-fine.”

 

Nora was suddenly kneeling beside him, placing a hand on his forehead. He tried to pull away but she stubbornly followed, a frown on her face.

 

“You have a fever. A pretty bad one.” She noted. “How long have you had it?”

 

“I d-dunno, didn't exactly t-take my… take my t-temperature today.” MacCready groused, then yelped as another, even stronger pang shot through him. He briefly considered asking Nora to pull out her gun to put him down, but Duncan immediately came to mind. He couldn't die now. If he died, Duncan died, and he could not stand for that.

 

“I have medical training. Will you let me examine you?” Nora was watching him closely. He hesitated before reluctantly nodding. He was loathe to admit it, but he needed help. “Good. Come on, I need you on your back.”

 

Something as simple as rolling onto his back was a lesson in pain. He managed it with her help, but he kept his feet flat on the bed with his knees drawn up, unable to straighten completely without pure agony. He cringed as she palpated his stomach, and outright screamed when she prodded his lower right belly. The room went distant and fuzzy while the pain became sharp and larger than real life. He vaguely heard Dogmeat bolt out of the room, and Nora muttering to herself under her breath as she went to get something from the closet.

 

_Am I dying?_ He wondered as he stared at the ceiling swirling above him. 

 

“Not today.” He must have wondered out loud, because Nora replied. “You're in luck, Mac. I'm a military doctor. Who happens to know how to do an appendectomy.”

 

“What the hell is an appendectomy?” Preston came stumbling into the room, herded by Dogmeat and pulling his jacket on and looking like he had just rolled out of bed. “What’s going on?”

 

“MacCready has appendicitis. That requires an appendectomy.” Nora said, laying out several items that glittered in the lantern light in the room and sighing when Preston gave her a blank look. “It used to be a simple, even common procedure before… before…”

 

“The Great War?” Preston prompted as Nora trailed off, seemingly losing herself in thought.

 

“Yes.” She sighed. “Before that one.”

 

MacCready frowned at the ceiling, certain he had heard wrong. Before the _what_ war?

 

Another stab of pain in his gut, catching his breath in his chest, scream squeezing his throat. His world narrowed to the pain in his lower belly. He felt like he was going to tear open; maybe explode and bleed out where he lay, the terrified part of his brain supplied unhelpfully. Nora was injecting something into his forearm and MacCready had the sudden sense that he had passed out, maybe for a few seconds.

 

“It's your appendix, MacCready.” Nora was saying above him. “Do you know what that means?”

 

“Y-yeah.” He gritted his teeth, bit back another shriek as the pain roiled under his skin again. Some grim dots were starting to connect in his head despite the mind-numbing pain. “Cut it out or I'm dead. Cutting it out… might make me dead anyway.”

 

“You're not gonna die, MacCready.” Nora was now sanitizing some alarming looking tools. “I could do this in my sleep. Look, I don't have anything to knock you right out, so we're gonna get you high enough that you don't care, okay? Preston is gonna help you out with that.”

 

“Okay.” He whispered, suddenly terrified. He could feel the effects of whatever it was she had given him kicking in, making him feel floaty but still all too grounded. “Don't think I'm quite there yet.”

 

Another prick to the inside of his forearm followed by a hiss. The floating feeling got worse, making him feel like he'd float off into the sky if it weren't for this pesky flesh and bone cage.

 

Someone pushed his legs down and took away the pillow from under his head, laying him flat. The agony of laying flat was there, but it seemed far enough removed that he could inspect it from a distance. A warm body settled over his thighs, weighing him down.

 

“Stay there and don't move, Dogmeat. And I’m putting this coat over you.” He thought he heard Nora say. Dogmeat yipped in reply. “How you doing, MacCready?”

 

MacCready tried to respond intelligibly but was pretty sure he just slurred out a ‘yep’. He felt his tank top being rucked up and his boxers tugged dangerously low on his hips, but couldn't find it in himself to care about the borderline indecency. Something wet and cold swabbed at his lower belly, sending stabs of pain into his gut, but much duller than before. 

 

“I need some light.” Nora said and the overhead light snapped on. MacCready slammed his eyes shut with a shuddering groan, suddenly hyper aware of a headache building behind his eyes.

 

“Here.” Someone draped some sort of fabric over his eyes, blocking the worst of the light. MacCready wasn't keen on being sightless, but it was preferable over the blinding light at the moment. 

 

“We’re gonna get started, MacCready.” Nora's voice was gentle. “It won't take me long, but it's probably going to hurt. I need you to try to stay still, and remember to breathe. Can you do that?”

 

MacCready sluggishly nodded, then Preston’s warm hands pulled his arms over his head and held his wrists against the mattress firmly, sending the first prickle of unease through him. Before he could sort through his muddled thoughts as to why that was, something icy pierced MacCready’s belly; distant agony that still set his body on edge, stiffening and arching his spine, catching his breath in his chest.

 

“Breathe, kid, just breathe.” Preston chanted over him. “Try to relax and breathe.”

 

The iciness had paused, and he suddenly remembered how to breathe, exhaling gustily. It was all too soon when it resumed, slicing him open. He whimpered, too drugged to manage anything more. 

 

“It'll be over soon, MacCready.” Nora said. “Just hang on.”

 

It suddenly occurred to him that they could easily take what they wanted from him and leave him for dead, and there was nothing he could do about it now. His paranoia couldn't come up with a good reason as to why they would do that, but it lingered all the same, making his chest feel tight.

 

“It's okay, calm down.” Preston was saying. “Focus on breathing.”

 

It sounded like a good idea, and made him realize he was panting in short, tight, panicked puffs as his heart galloped in his chest. He tried to slow his breathing, but it was hard when there _wasn't enough air_.

 

He felt a tug somewhere inside him, a sharp pain, an exclamation from Preston, and everything went mercifully black.

 

***

 

When he opened his eyes again, he realized that not much time had passed. The cloth had fallen from his eyes so he could see Preston was still there, although he wasn't holding him down anymore, but watching something that was happening near MacCready’s middle. MacCready weakly tried to lift his head to see what he was looking at, but Preston instantly pushed his head back down. 

 

“Just stay down. She's almost done.”

 

“I am done.” Nora sounded smug. He could feel the tell-tale tingle in his thigh that told him he had recently been hit by a stimpack. “How you feeling now, Mac?”

 

MacCready blinked at the ceiling, trying to feel anything beyond the floating feeling.

 

“Think I'm still high.” He managed to slur, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

 

“Sleep it off.” She patted his shoulder and draped a blanket over him before getting Preston to help her get a pillow under his head again. “You'll be fine, but you should take it easy for a day or two.”

 

“I'll make sure you still get your caps worth from the contract.” MacCready wasn't sure how much sense he was making, but needed her to know he wasn't going to go back on the job. That was very important. He _needed_ these caps. Nora’s face softened. It might have been the drugs making him see things, but he wasn't sure.

 

“We’ll talk about our deal when you're not drugged to the eyeballs.” Nora assured him. “I don't want you to wake up and feel taken advantage of.”

 

MacCready hopes it's the drugs still when his eyes prickle, because he is _not_ ready to get teary eyed in front of his new boss. Or anyone, for that matter.

 

“Yep.” He managed before giving up on coherent thought and giving in to sleep.

 

***

 

When he woke up again, it was still dark out and he could still feel the effects of whatever drug they gave him. His brain didn't feel quite so foggy but he felt like he could still sleep; the ache of dehydration in his throat begged to differ.

 

He could see someone sitting nearby, and turned his head a bit to see Nora sitting cross legged on the floor, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, reading one her comics by candlelight.

 

He opened his mouth to make some smart-ass remark and was startled when nothing more than a croak emerged. Nora jumped, quickly realized he was awake, and grabbed a handy can of purified water. She helped him sit up a bit to sip at the water, but she took it away all too soon.

 

“Let's just make sure that stays down before you have more.” Nora explained, and he grudgingly had to admit she was probably right. His stomach felt hollow. “You okay?”

 

He felt like he had heard the variation of that question more today than he had his entire life. He nodded in response, still tired. His eyelids felt heavy, making him blink long and slow.

 

“It's a couple hours yet before the sun is up.” Nora checked her PipBoy. “You should try to sleep some more.”

 

He hummed in agreement, eyes closing of their own accord already.

 

“Hey Mac,” Nora spoke up just before he drifted off, “how old are you?”

 

He was too tired to be surprised by the question, or even think of lying.

 

“Twenty-two, coming up on twenty-three probably sometime soon.” MacCready murmured, already half asleep. He found he was curious about her now, and his sleepiness apparently overcame his nervousness about asking what could be considered personal questions. “You?”

 

“Twenty-four.” Nora admitted readily enough, then muttered under her breath, “plus a couple centuries I don't remember.”

 

“Wha-?” MacCready furrowed his brow in confusion, but he was already too far gone to pursue that enigmatic comment any further. 

 

“I'll tell you more later.” Nora pulled the blanket over him further, tucking him in more securely. “Get some sleep.”

 

***

 

MacCready awoke to the sounds of laughter in the distance and someone hammering on metal. Sun filtered in through the blue sheet hanging over the window above him, and he decided he could not be more comfortable despite the low ache in his bones. Nora and Dogmeat weren't in the room, but he could hear quiet voices in the common area of the house. Not in a hurry to join them yet, he stretched, and was pleased when his side didn't even twinge.

 

Footsteps came down the hall, and he hurriedly attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes so he could see who it was better.

 

“You up, lazy bones?” Nora leaned in the doorway, looking amused. MacCready rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. “So that's how it's gonna be, huh? You get your day of rest and you choose to spend it in bed.”

 

“If that’s one of my choices, yes, I’d live here today.” MacCready said into the pillow. The extremely soft and fluffy pillow. On the best mattress he had ever laid on. With a soft, heavy blanket. He frowned at the last one, because he thought he remembered initially falling asleep in a sleeping bag. He rolled onto his side again and rubbed the fabric between his fingers. 

 

“You got blood on the sleeping bag.” Nora said. “I had to wash it this morning.”

 

“ _I_ got blood on the sleeping bag?”

 

“Well, it is your blood.” Nora said jokingly. “You're the one that leaked.”

 

“Thanks.” MacCready pushed himself into a sitting position, deciding he didn’t actually feel like staying in bed all day and nervously ran his hand through what felt like a serious case of bedhead. “You, uh, you saved my life.”

 

“Probably.” Nora said nonchalantly. “Your appendix started rupturing just as I was pulling it out of you. Pretty gross. Preston might have screeched.”

 

“He did. Scared the shi- er, crap out of me.” MacCready confessed. “Think that's why I passed out.”

 

“Sorry about that.” Nora cringed. “Hey, are you hungry?”

 

MacCready shrugged, just as his empty stomach let out a loud growl. 

 

“Alright, put some clothes on, I'll be right back.” Nora rolled her eyes and disappeared back into the hall.

 

MacCready grabbed his pitifully small pack and pulled out his spare shirt and boxers. If there was a way to wash a sleeping bag around here like she had said, he hoped he could do the same for his gear today. He quickly changed, and was just putting his folded duster into his pack when Nora returned with a bowl of razorgrain porridge and a thick slice of toasted bread.

 

The smell of the food was enough to spike his hunger even more, and he eagerly took it from her to wolf it down, scraping the bowl clean only minutes later. Nora had moved to the desk and was assembling the 10mm, but she looked up as he was finishing the toast in huge bites.

 

“Still hungry?” She asked mildly. “There might be more if you hurry back out there.”

 

MacCready cleaned out the bottom of the bowl with the last bite of toast before popping it in his mouth.

 

“You know,” he started when he had finished swallowing, “I thought I got hired by a hard-ass merc, but you're kind of a softie under all that, aren't you?”

 

“Yep.” Nora snapped the final piece into place on the 10mm and checked it before feeding bullets into the magazine. “And if you tell anyone, I'll kill you myself.”

 

Her tone of voice was serious, but he saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

 

“My lips are sealed.” He promised anyway, his own lips twitching with a grin. He was beginning to think this job wouldn't be so bad. “So if you're gonna make me laze around for a day, will you at least give me the grand tour?”

 

Nora put the gun down and gestured to the door with a grin. “After you.”

 

***


End file.
